


Fictober 2018 - The Lion, The Raven and the Trust Between Them - The Drabbles

by Kalla_Moonshado



Series: The Lion, The Raven and the Trust Between Them [1]
Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blatant Attempt To Break Writers Block, Camping, Canon Blending, Emotional rollercoasters, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Redemption, Requieted Love, Shenanigans, Sometimes people live when they should have died, Unrequited Love, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalla_Moonshado/pseuds/Kalla_Moonshado
Summary: I've wanted to do this AU to Conspiracy of Ravens, in which there is both LionTrust and RavenTrust, and RavenLion, and later on... Why not all of the above?In an attempt to break my writers block on a whole bunch of my other works, I'm working on this... since NaNoWriMo is soon, and I still haven't figured out exactly what I'm going to do for that yet.





	1. "Can You Feel This?"

**Author's Note:**

> All of these will be in a canon verse loosely based on Conspiracy of Ravens, with the divergence of Khadgar and Anduin Lothar becoming lovers in the time they had - and very likely without Lothar having his head caved in by Ogrim Doomhammer.
> 
> My Lothar tends to be a blend of movie-verse and book/game-verse.  
> Khadgar and Medivh will be the same verse as Conspiracy of Ravens.

The battle was hard, and hard won. More of a skirmish than an actual battle, but it still took its toll. Khadgar looked around the camp, and frowned, counting. He looked up at Anduin Lothar, who had the end of a bandage in his mouth, and was tugging at Khadgar’s left boot with no few curses around the bandage, and grunts of effort.

“Damn it, you did a number on this,” the warrior growled, working the bandage around Khadgar’s ankle. He started pressing the skin around the worst of the swelling. “Can you feel this?” he asked, looking up.

Khadgar blanched, then clamped his mouth shut, but nodded, making a noise of pain.

Lothar moved the mage’s foot, pressing more spots, asking the same question as he worked his way down to the toes. “Move them for me.” Khadgar did, but only enough so that Lothar was satisfied. It _hurt_.

Khadgar hissed as he felt the bandage wind around the ankle, bracing it, then let out the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “Damn it,” he ground out.

“I know. It’s just sprained though. You keep it elevated, we get Turalyon to look at you, and you should be fine to ride tomorrow.” The warrior looked up, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief as wicked as Khadgar had ever seen in Medivh’s. “Leave it to you to find the one exposed root in the area.”

 _Light, they are…were… two of a kind…_ Khadgar snorted softly. “It’s my hidden talent. Now you know. If you want something found that might be a disaster, send me in first.” He shifted a little as Lothar propped the wrapped ankle up on his pack, lifting himself up on his elbows. “My sword? Staff?”

“Both recovered and fine.” Lothar chuckled at the sigh of relief. “Better, because of your quick work, we had no casualties this time.” Khadgar lifted a silver eyebrow, and the look Lothar gave him was almost pained. “Damn it, you look like Med when you do that.”

“I’m sorry,” Khadgar began, forcing his face to relax.

“No. Don’t.” Lothar leaned over, ruffling Khadgar’s hair, then turned to dig something out of his own pack. He passed it to Khadgar. “Until Turalyon can get to you, take a swallow of this. It’ll blunt the edges.”

Khadgar eyed the skin doubtfully, then shrugged and sat up to uncork it and take the warrior’s advice. Whatever the skin contained, it tasted like mead, but went down like fire. He passed the skin back, his eyes watering. “Holy stars, Anduin, what _is_ that?”

“Dwarven fire-mead. They make mead, freeze it, use the ice for wine, then bottle this stuff as medicine.” He grinned as he put it away.

“Light…” Khadgar closed his eyes and found that his head was a little fuzzy, but he wasn’t in pain. “It.. works.”

“Course it works. I hate pain drugs. Use this instead most of the time.” He settled himself behind Khadgar so the smaller man could lean against him. “Figured you’d be like… him. Mages hate to be muddled unless they do it on their terms.”

Khadgar nodded, then sighed. “I miss him.”

“I do too, Bookworm.” Lothar slid his arms around Khadgar, ignoring looks others were shooting them. He knew plenty of the others were shield-mates. And truth be told, he was all Khadgar had left of his master, teacher… and lover. Just as Khadgar was all he had left of his best friend, his confidant… and once, his lover. “You know. You’re two of a kind.” Lothar chuckled.

“I was thinking the same of you and him.”

“Bah. No. We got into shit together, sure, but… Are all mages klutzy?”

Khadgar turned his head to glare at Lothar. “No. Most of the time we’re graceful.”

“As a gryphon doing ballet.”

Khadgar elbowed Lothar in the ribs. Lothar laughed. Khadgar joined him after a moment. “He never took a header on the stairs,” Khadgar pointed out. “Not that I ever did, but…”

“But that’s in that tower of yours. Out here? He was just as bad.” Lothar sighed.

They were saved from further contemplation of their lost one by Turalyon striding towards them, one eyebrow raised at their positioning. He knelt, looked at Khadgar’s ankle and snorted. “You got lucky, my friend. Just a sprain and a pulled muscle.” The paladin held out a hand, and a moment later, Khadgar felt warmth in his ankle that spread down to his foot. “You’ll be just fine by morning. Just keep it elevated as it is, and you two _behave_ tonight.”

Lothar grinned at his second-in-command. “Yessir,” he answered for them both. Turalyon blushed, looking slightly taken aback; he had just issued an order to his commander! “Oh don’t look like that. You’re a healer, lad. In an infirmary situation, you rank me.”

Turalyon offered him a small smile. “I… I’m not used to that. Thank you, Commander.”

Lothar shooed him off to his other patients, and looked down at Khadgar, about to make another comment about his friend, and realized the mage had dozed off. “Thought Med would have had you better acquainted with alcohol.” He shook his head. “But that, the injury, the adrenaline of combat and injury…” He kissed Khadgar’s temple. “Rest isn’t going to hurt either of us.” He shifted a little, and closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep, but he was able to rest better with Khadgar against his chest.

If he wondered why that was, he didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t like he was in love with the mage or anything. Right?


	2. "People Like You Have No Imagination."

Medivh stared at the sky, though part of his attention was on the stew pot over the fire beside him.

“How does he do that?” Llane asked, peeling the skin from a rabbit.

“No idea.” Anduin replied, cubing a second rabbit and gently dropping the cubes of meat, and the larger bones, into the pot as Medivh stirred absently.

“Don’t you wonder about it? Either of you?” Medivh dragged his attention away from the stars to look at his companions.

“About what? The stars?” Anduin shot Llane a warning look; if he got the mage talking about it, he would go on all night. “Or the clouds? The weather?” Llane hastily added.

“Mm. None of the above, and all of the above?” Medivh answered. He looked down at the stew pot he tended, stirring it until he knew nothing would stick to the bottom and burn there, then continued to agitate it slowly as Anduin took Llane’s rabbit and began to quarter and cube it. “What’s _out_ there? Are we the only creatures, we of this planet? Or are there others, like in the Legends of the Titans?”

Anduin and Llane shared a look. Llane shrugged, reached for a branch to use as a torch, then wandered off in the direction of the brook they camped by, a bucket in his free hand. Anduin sighed. “I’m not sure there’s anything actually out there, Med. The legends are just that. Legends. Fairy stories. Things to make hyper little mages shut up and go to sleep.”

Medivh snorted a laugh. “How do you know?”

“I don’t. But you have to admit it’s unlikely,” Lothar shot back, scraping the rabbit skins. They were decent pelts, and would make a lovely pair of fur-lined gloves for Cally.

Medivh let out a long-suffering sigh. “People like you have no imagination. No drive. No curiosity.”

“Feh. I’m plenty curious. Just not about the stars and whatever else is out there.” Lothar rolled the pelts carefully and slipped them into his pack and pulled out bowls and implements for their dinner. “Give me blades and skill, the dance of weaponry and body. Or body and body,” he added slyly.

Medivh scowled. Lothar passed him a bowl and spoon. Llane returned, setting the water he’d collected down within easy reach of all three of them, chuckling at what he’d heard as he returned. “I can’t leave you alone for two minutes…”

“You know,” Medivh said, taking his bowl and setting it beside him and ignoring Llane’s comment, “there are more things in the world than weapons, kingdoms, and women.”

“Or men,” Lothar pointed out.

Medivh colored slightly, then nodded. “Or men. There are mysteries out there to solve –“

“Books to read, and knowledge to gain. Yes, Med we know.” Lothar gave Llane a look, then turned his attention back to Medivh. “Are all mages like you?”

“All the ones I’ve met,” Llane said helpfully. “Which is all of four at this point.”

“Antonidas doesn’t count,” Medivh muttered darkly. “He’s just. Creepy.”

“And you aren’t sometimes?” Lothar countered, grinning. He ducked the blow mimed at him before Medivh prodded at the stew again. Llane laughed.

Medivh reached back with his free hand and pulled his cloak’s hood up. “Beware of angering a wizard,” he said in an attempt to imitate an older, crankier man. “You may find yourself in a pond, croaking.”

“I know how to swim,” Lothar grinned.

“Remind me to throw you in the lake on Medivh’s behalf, the next time we’re there,” Llane laughed.

Medivh shook his hood back down, then snorted. “Leave it to you to take it all the wrong way, you barbarian.” He then grinned. “Though credit where credit is due. That was a good one.” He dug in his pack and pulled out a waterskin, and passed it to Llane. “Fill that for me, would you? My hands are tied.”

Llane took the skin and carefully filled it from the bucket. “How is that coming, by the way?”

“Too slow for my tastes,” Medivh replied, taking the skin back with a nod of thanks. “I could eat a gryphon.”

“You’d better not,” Lothar warned. “Especially not _my_ babies.”

Medivh snorted. “And you say I’m fixated with my books.” He lifted a bit of meat from the stewpot and examined it, then lowered it again.

“And you say I have no imagination, when I managed to convince Llane’s father that gryphons could be crossbred to carry heavier armored soldiers for longer patrols.” Lothar leaned back on his hands. “So my imagination is martial. Yours is magic and the unknown.”

Medivh made a thoughtful noise. “All right, I take it back.”

“What about Llane here? What imagination do you have?”

Llane frowned. “Honestly? A normal life, like you two. Having who I court be private instead of public. Being out of the eye of nearly everyone, who feels entitled to know what I had for breakfast.”

The silence that followed his words was punctuated only by the crackle of the fire, the soft scrape of the spoon against the stewpot, and the songs of birds settling and night insects. A wolf howled in the distance, and was answered.

“Do any of us really lead ‘normal’ lives?” Medivh asked, softly. “Look at us. The Prince of Stormwind, a soldier in line to become the standing army’s commander, and a magelet slated to become a Guardian.”

Lothar shrugged. “I suppose in a way, all of us are in public eyes. And will if those destinies live out. I am probably the most normal of us, in that way.”

Llane stood up, and started unrolling their bedding. “And my father wonders why I escape so often with you two.”

They were silent until Medivh announced that the stew was finally done. Silent as they washed up. Silent until they settled into their bedrolls around the fire.

“I admit,” Medivh said softly, breaking the silence at last, “that I would be lost without either of you. You – and these escapes – remind me that I am not some mechanical marvel, but a flesh-and-blood human.”

Lothar reached out and felt for Medivh’s hand, covering it with his. “I feel the same. I am not a gryphon, or a horse, training only for war.”

“Nor I only a prince, groomed for rule. Out here, we can just be… us. We can imagine there is nothing more.” Llane sighed. “And nothing less.”

“Not sure that’s imagination, Llane,” Lothar murmured. “When we’re out here, we are nothing more and nothing less.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lane murmured.

His answer was a snore.


	3. "How Can I Trust You?"

The moment was tense. Khadgar looked from one man, who had once been his lover, to the other, which was currently his lover. No, the moment wasn’t just tense. It was _awkward_.

He had wondered, for some time, how this would play out. It had begun when he and Anduin had found themselves tangled in an emotional and physical knot one night after perhaps one too many tankards of mead. It had begun as a desperate need for some kind of attachment, and they both knew it. It had turned into something that neither had expected, given their natures and their ages. He had been the one to see Medivh on the balcony. He had been one to hear the words that Medivh would live again, someday. He just hadn’t known… when.

And now he stood aside as they stared at each other. Khadgar knew they had been lovers, once. Medivh had mentioned it. Anduin had confirmed it. And now he stood aside as they seemed to communicate without words for a long moment that was growing tenser and more awkward by the second.

“How can I trust you?” Anduin finally blurted out, breaking the silence, his voice cracking a little. “You betrayed us all.”

Medivh lowered his gaze. And nodded. “I know,” he said softly. “You must understand – you must remember that some of it… some of it was not my doing.”

“I remember what it was I ended beneath Karazhan. It was not you.” Anduin narrowed his eyes. “That still does not answer the question, Medivh.”

Medivh flinched. It was not often Anduin used his full name. It brought home how far apart they had grown over time. Anduin sighed, noticing it, and opened his mouth, but Medivh cut him off. “You can’t,” he said simply. “Not as things stand. If I want your trust, I must earn it.”

Khadgar looked at Anduin, who shook his head, slowly. “I am not sure if I can trust you again. You betrayed us once. What’s to keep you from doing so again?”

“The lack of a demonic parasite perhaps?” Medivh snapped. “The fact that the only reason you know I am here is because of Khadgar?”

Both of them turned to look at Khadgar, who looked now every inch of his age. Khadgar swallowed, and his tongue darted out to moisten lips gone dry with anxiety. “I could not let this go on,” he said, softly. “You both deserved to know the other lived. You both deserved a chance to reconcile.” He looked at them both in turn again, and his hands lifted in a frustrated gesture. “Damn it, you loved one another once! I already know that doesn’t just fade.”

Medivh looked startled. Anduin looked shocked. And they looked at each other again.

“Anduin, I was given a second chance to right what I had done when my will was not entirely my own. And I have done what I can from the shadows. With the threats still on the horizon, I cannot remain there.”

“I know. Khadgar told me. And I confirmed it with others who worked with you while we were… gone.”

The silence between them stretched again, and Khadgar wondered if either of them would do anything.

Finally, it was Anduin who moved. He lifted his hand, holding it out to Medivh. Medivh took it, and Anduin pulled him into a hug. “So we begin anew. He’s right. Such things _don’t_ just fade, Med.”

Khadgar let out the breath he was holding, and closed his eyes. His instinct, as Medivh had told him often was very good, had been right.


	4. "Will That Be All?"

Moroes set the pot of tea down between the two men, poured two cups, added cream to one, honey and cream to the other, then gently set them at the appropriate elbows.

Without looking up, the older of the two thanked the castellan warmly.

Moroes smiled. He had not lost his touch after all. He went about then, tidying up stacks of notes, and books, and swept a bit, as unobtrusively as possible.

New ink bottles from the stores were set out. Khadgar’s sharpening kit was laid beside him just as he went to look for it. A new quill found itself beside Medivh as he snapped the point of the one he used.

It was in the little things. Always the little things.

Medivh shivered, and found a laprug settled onto his legs. Khadgar reached for a cup of tea that had been empty a moment before to find a full cup. Dinner found its way onto the table as they looked at each other and wondered what time it was.

The pointed look of the castellan was enough to make both mages set aside their work and actually eat something while it was still warm.

And Moroes smiled.

He drew a hot bath, set out towels and fire-warm wrap-robes – it was getting chilly in the halls at night – then went to turn the bed down, and warm it as well.

Cocoa, before bed. To soothe the senses, to warm chilled bodies, and to put the pair to their rest. It had been a long day for his masters.

Moroes smoothed the bedcovers over Medivh’s form as Khadgar curled beside him, then let the bed curtains fall on Khadgar’s side first.

“Will that be all?” he asked, untying the cords on Medivh’s side.

“Yes,” came the sleepy answer, and one green eye and one blue eye looked at him in grateful affection. “Thank you, Moroes.”

Moroes let the curtains fall, smoothing them so they would not let in the early morning sunlight. He picked up the tray with the empty pot of cocoa and the two empty cups, and slipped down the stairs in silence.

And Moroes smiled.


	5. "Take What You Need."

The sound of shattering glass echoed down the hallway as Anduin headed toward his friend’s suite – now a solitary one, rather than shared with the court conjurer. It had been days since Medivh had awakened, and it had been awkward for all of them.

Llane was now the King of Stormwind. He was now the Commander of the Guard, and he had a small son. And Medivh…

Another sharp sound, like the shattering of wood.

Anduin shook his head. He had been given space, of course, to recover from the shock. But there were some things that were just too much for one young man, especially one who has lost a decade of his life, and was already under demands from others – demands that fit his physical age, rather than understanding that a teenager still dwelled beneath the too-pale skin, within the heart and soul that was contained by a wraith, compared to what he had once been.

He shook his head because of all of this mess. The wreck of the mage had been awake days, and was expected to have aged ten years in those few days. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Anduin knew that. Llane knew that. But there it was – and neither of them could stop the demands.

Anduin’s knock was drowned by a metallic scraping, and another sound of shattering wood. He knocked again.

Silence.

Anduin tried a third time, and the door opened – or rather was yanked open.

“ _WHAT?_ ” Anduin had never seen those eyes look like that – wild and angrier than he could have imagined. It wasn’t as though Medivh had never gotten angry, but he had never been… like this.

They softened a little as Medivh registered who it was standing there. He turned from the door, leaving it open in tacit invitation – or resignation. Anduin shrugged, slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

The sitting room had once been a semi-intimate room, with a couch along the back wall opposite the door, and a table before it. To the side were a collection of armchairs and foot-stools arranged around the fireplace. Now, it was a shambles. The table had been flung against the wall leading to the rest of the suite, and it lay with one leg barely clinging to it. One of the chairs had been apparently clawed apart. Several glasses and a clock were little but shards on the hearth, accompanied by the shards of at least one wine bottle.

Medivh dropped onto the couch, his sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead. It was obvious he had been in a fit of rage before Anduin had interrupted it. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Anduin, as though daring him to comment on the room.

Anduin knew better than to take the bait. He knew that with a wave of his hands, the room could – and would – be put back to rights. He picked his way carefully across the room, instead, and settled himself on the couch, his back against the arm, looking at Medivh.

“I take it then, you are not doing much better,” he said, quietly.

Medivh turned his head to look at him, snorted, then shook his head. “No,” he said shortly.

Anduin sighed. “More demands from the Kirin Tor?”

“My mother,” Medivh replied, just as shortly.

They were quiet for a moment, and Medivh leapt to his feet, pacing the room, and somehow, his bare feet didn’t find shards of wood or of glass. “I collapsed _ten years ago_. One would think that _someone_ would have the sense to think that I am not just waking up from an hour’s nap or a night’s sleep, and treat me accordingly. Anduin, I’m not … I don’t feel…” He threw his arms up over his head, then covered his face with his hands, sinking back onto the couch.

“Like you know who you are,” Anduin said quietly. Medivh lowered his hands and looked at him sharply. “You collapsed, a fourteen-year-old teenager struggling with power and magics that were tearing you apart the older you got. You awake, twenty-four years old, to be informed that your father did not collapse with you in the confrontation, but was killed. People see you, at twenty-four, and assume that you have the practice and control, the mentality, and the studies of the past ten years.”

Medivh’s lips trembled, and he looked away. Light above, it was as though he understood what Medivh was going through.

“You also discover, upon waking, that you were absent from my wedding. That you missed the plague that claimed Llane’s father. And everything you knew has changed, though to you, it was as though you collapsed a few days ago. Not years.” Anduin sighed. “Even all that Llane and I can tell others about your collapse into a coma doesn’t seem to sink in.”

Medivh’s shoulders shook, though he was silent. Anduin shook his head, slowly, then reached out a hand to rest on one of those shoulders. “Medivh – things may have changed, but some things have not. Llane and I – we were there. Every day. When I could be spared – I stayed. I tried talking to you in the hopes that a familiar voice would wake you. Ca—“ he paused, taking a breath, “Cally brought flowers. I even introduced my son to you, hoping…” he sighed again. “We are still here for you, just as we were before.”

Medivh lifted a hand to rest on Anduin’s, then squeezed it. “That doesn’t change the fact that others—“

“Others don’t know you like we do.” Anduin shifted closer, his free arm sliding around Medivh’s back. “Don’t push us away, Med.”

Medivh turned his head, looking a right mess, now. His long hair was tangled as it brushed across Anduin’s arm. Part of it still stuck to Medivh’s forehead, and now his eyes were red, his face tear-streaked, and he looked every inch the teenager who had collapsed, rather than the older man others saw. Anduin tugged at him, gently.

Medivh responded to that tug, turning and throwing himself at his closest friend, giving into the hysterics he held back.

Anduin held him, gently ran a hand through his hair and untangling the dark strands, and said nothing for a long moment. When he spoke, it was in a soothing voice, his arm firmly around Medivh’s back, still stroking his hair with the other. “We’re here. _I’m_ here, Med. Not going anywhere. Take what you need. All that you need. Time. Comfort. Ask, and if it’s in our power to grant it… we’ll see to it.”

It was a long time before the storm passed, and with it came exhaustion. “Don’t leave me,” came the small-voiced plea.

Anduin kissed Medivh’s forehead. “I won’t.”

And he saw to it that Medivh had a bath, some tea, and sent a message to Llane about where he was, should he be needed. He bolted the door, and then resumed his place, only this time in Medivh’s bed, making sure that Medivh fell asleep to assurances that he was not alone.


	6. "I Heard Enough, This Ends Now."

“I never thought this was going to happen I swear it.”

“But you still encouraged it!”

“You were _dead_!”

Silence. And then louder than before, “He knew. He _knew_ , Anduin!”

“So you’re going to berate him for clinging to what he had left of _you_ in me, and letting things just develop as they did?”

“Him, _and you_! Do you have any idea what it has done to _me_ seeing what I have?”

“So instead of talking to either of us, you just come here and start flinging spells at me, especially when you know I have no other way to counter than with a _blade_? Need I remind you the last time you started throwing magic around when I had a blade in my hand?”

Medivh stopped, his hand raised, glowing blue. And he lowered his hand, looking stricken. At once, he lowered his head and his voice. “I remember all too well, Anduin.”

“Do you have any idea what that did to him?” Anduin’s voice was quieter, but still full of venom.

“I…”

“It destroyed him, Medivh. I’ve dealt with broken men before after combat – but he was a wreck. And let’s be real about this, since we’re ‘discussing’ it. He was the only thing I had of you – I vowed to protect him. _For you._ I didn’t think you’d want the only legacy you’d left behind to wind up killing himself.” Medivh looked up sharply, and Anduin nodded. “He tried. More than once. And it was always in such a way that it didn’t seem like he was doing it on purpose. Did you think I’d let him?”

“Letting him kill himself and sleeping with him aren’t the same thing, Anduin.”

“For fuck’s sake Medivh, we weren’t made of stone or ice. Things _happened_. And it developed. You can’t say that you were in love with him the moment he arrived.”

“No. No, I can’t.” Medivh sounded defeated. “It… happened over time.”

“Just as it did with us.” Anduin and Medivh looked up, both with equally shocked expressions. Khadgar stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his eyes like chips of ice.

“Khadgar – H-how long have… How much did you…”

“I heard enough. This ends. Now.”

Khadgar’s glare actually caused both Anduin and Medivh to take a step back. They may have been older, but even Medivh admitted that Khadgar could flatten them both with a word. Anduin admitted that he was no slouch with a blade – they both knew they were in trouble.


End file.
